


Insatiable

by Straumoy



Category: Invincible (Image Comics)
Genre: Angry Sex, Bad Dirty Talk, Consensual Sex, F/M, Multiple Orgasms, POV Multiple, POV Third Person Limited, Revenge Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Superhero Sex, Vanilla Kink, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:53:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29047968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Straumoy/pseuds/Straumoy
Summary: There are many dimensions, realities, universes, and timelines in Invincible. So many in fact that the possibilities are near limitless. This is one such possibility. Starting from Invincible issue #110, page 10, Mark accepts Anissa’s offer to procreate after Eve tells him they’re through.
Relationships: Markus "Mark" Grayson/Anissa
Comments: 5
Kudos: 4





	Insatiable

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that English isn't my native language, so expect the odd typo or grammatical error here and there. I've done my best to weed out the most obvious ones with MS Word and Grammarly. I apologize for the ones that slipped through the cracks, but if you do spot them, please let me know and I'll be happy to correct them.

Free above the clouds, Mark drew a deep breath. His eyes swam with tears while the chilled air bit into his skin. His breathing shuddered out a whimper, “I love you so much...”

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” a voice called from behind. Mark spun around fast enough for the tears to leave his cheeks. Just past his shoulder a woman. Tall and proud, brimming with cocky confidence only found in Viltrumite. Her short black hair tossed and rippled in the wind. And her eyes. It was hard to see through the tears and the glaring sunlight, but just perhaps there was a hunger to them. “Where have you been?”

Mark sniffed as he ran the back of his hand under his nose in an effort to regain his composure, “None of your-”

“I don’t have time for this. You know our mission here,” her tone was crass and remained such as she continued. “We are to procreate, make more Viltrumite half-breeds so they can add to our ranks and prevent our extinction. The males of our rase are performing admirably. Many children have been created already. I'm not fulfilling my duty.”

The Viltrumite should have been here for some time now already. With all this dimension-hopping and time slipping, it got harder and harder to keep track. Regardless, why did this woman still carry the social and cultural norms of her upbringing on her sleeve? Mark gave her a once over, though didn’t learn anything new. It was nigh impossible to estimate her age given their lifespans and slowed aging. Though she might have been of the old guard and as such, it was hard for her to adjust. Just how long would it take though? Years? Decades? Centuries? Sucked that it fell upon him at a time like this, but Mark did his part to chip away at her stern exterior by replying as a human would, “I’m sorry to hear that, but-”

“Stop.”

Mark gritted his teeth. As tempting as the prospect of just flying away was, it’d probably do more harm than good. Hear her out, humor her and maybe she’ll start taking her first uncertain steps towards something more human, sympathetic, and empathetic.

“I refuse to mate with the creatures that reside on this planet. You are young and you are weak... but you have Viltrumite blood pumping through your veins,” she hovered closer, the hunger in her eyes was obvious up close. “So, you’ll do.”

“I’m flattered, but-” he started though Mark struggled to get out another word as the woman’s stern and chilled exterior thawed away.

Her face scared and her eyes pleaded. Despite the tautness of her voice, there was an uneasiness to her words, “Son of Nolan, you’ve been gone for many months and I can’t stall any longer. Your father is not as forceful as Thragg, but the orders remain. We are to rebuild the empire.”

“...fine. Do you mind if we take this at your place?”

* * *

The front door opened with a brutal bang. By some miracle, the hinges not only held fast but managed to bring the door closed as Mark got shoved inside. Anissa stuck to him like glue, hugging, clawing, and fawning over him even as they collided with the sofa. As he laid flat on his back, Anissa saddled him and pinned him down. She took a moment to catch herself, her breathing stabilizing from shallow pants to deep breaths. Her full breasts rose and sank with each breath, straining underneath the tight suit that contained them. Trapped between her strong, thick thighs Mark squirmed under the pressure. The hunger was gone from her eyes, all that remained was a starved stare. Her lush hips pressed and grinded against his, a slow almost agonizing tease. It got the job done. Mark's cock sprung to full attention, his throbbing erecting struggling to get free. Their clothes were so thin, his cock so hard that he could feel the warm lips of her pussy tasting the length of his dick.

Anissa dived down, showering him with kisses. Rapid and intense, they quickly devolved into a raw tasting. She explored the nooks and crannies of his mouth and he explored hers. Mark could barely keep up with her raging apatite. Spots started to sparkle in front of his eyes as his lunges pleaded for fresh air. Coming up for air, at last, her rich lips parted; threads of saliva dangled like love nectar. Anissa ran a hand through her jet-black hair, coming out of her dazed rapture. A pleased smile crossed her sensual lips, her hips pressed down enough to make something in the sofa crack. Something of a purring moan escaped her as she said, “Oh yes son of Nolan. You'll definitely do.”

Without a word she tore her suit apart, her flawless breasts finally free. Mark had seen his fair share of breasts, but these were out of this world. Literally. Neither Amber nor Eve had anything on Anissa. Her toned, muscular physique was a contrast to the soft, rich breasts that Mark was surprised to find quite appealing. Amber had been the nice blonde girl next door and Eve for the most part had been fit and petite. Though Anissa’s thighs didn’t carry the same muscular definition as her arms and torso, they kept Mark firmly in place and a stern reminder of who was in charge. As intimidating as the prospect of being ravaged by this warrior of a woman was, Mark didn’t put up much of a fight. It'd just blow their cover if he did. A familiar sound brought him back to the moment. Anissa's fingers clawed at his chest, quickly working through his black and blue suit while wearing a gleeful grin. He never really cared for it anyway. The thing had bad luck sewed into its seams, or so it seemed.

Anissa panted heavily, practically drooling as her price popped into view. Mark's cock was armed and ready, two pearls of pre-cum were just the icing on the cake. Not that she needed any more incitive to keep ongoing. As one hand made frantic short work of the remainder of her own suit, the other coiled itself around the base of his shaft. In less than a second, she rammed down on it, taking the full length and girth of his dick into her already drenched pussy. Two of the sofa’s legs broke from the impact as dishes in the kitchen cupboards rattled. It took Mark’s breath away in more ways than one. Never had he been with someone so assertive, let alone had sex with an alien before. He shot off his fully stacked load, soaking the thirsty pussy with his thick cum. A deep-throated groan pressed itself out between her clenched teeth as she savored the moment. She eased up, tension melted away from her back and shoulders. Her expression reminded Mark of an intoxicated drunk, although as seconds ticked by a veil of dissatisfaction covered her face, “Mm... not quite what I expected.”

“Is this one of those, I've won but at what cost moments?” Mark said in an attempt to ease the mood.

“I wouldn’t know. In manners of procreation, you’ve certainly delivered but...”

“But what?”

She almost seemed to pout, “I expected a bit more of a fight. Perhaps you are weaker than I thought.”

“Anissa, that’s your name, right? You've gotta understand that I've been away for, what? Six months? For six months I was stranded in another dimension, so single-minded focused on getting back home that sex wasn’t even on my list of priorities.”

“I suppose...”

Still straddled by Anissa, Mark straightened up slightly, “And I am my father’s son. He has quite the stamina and appetite for these things.”

The corner of her mouth curved into a clever smile as her hips started to roll gently back and forth, “Indeed. I realize you’re still... primed. Are you ready, son of Nolan, for round two?”

Mark grinned and winked, “I can do this all day.”

Anissa chuckled; her palms spread out over Mark’s naked chest as her hips gained momentum. Moans and groans filled the air, interrupted by the wet sloppy noises that came from her pussy. He followed suit, stroking her thighs and grabbing her plump ass so he could get a better angle. Their breathing grew more rapid, shallower, and somehow fell in rhythm with the increasingly louder creaking of the sofa. Anissa rocked and bounced, riding his cock as she alternated between slow, firm strokes and swift slaps that clashed against the living room walls. Not one to be left behind, Mark thrust his hips hard, throwing Anissa out of her grove. Before she could recover, he levitated a few inches off the sofa to give himself some room before he furiously piston-fucked her from below, “You like that?! Huh?! You like this cock?!”

She didn’t reply, not in any coherent matter anyway. A dragged-out moan escaped her, which hobbled with the interruption from each thrust. Her eyes closed; her head swayed around as if adrift on waves of pleasure while her fingers rummaged through her hair before getting sucked on. Saliva dripped from her mouth, onto her breasts. With her torso writhing on top of him, a fresh tint of pink blush grew over her fair skin. As much as Mark wanted to, keeping this pace for long was taking its toll, superstrength and stamina be damned. He huffed and puffed as his climax approached, building at the base of his cock. His balls slapped against her ass, the grip on that juicy alien ass slipped as more and more sweat made it harder to maintain. He looked up and saw heaven. Anissa pressed her breasts together with her elbows, restricting their wobbling to a focused, hypnotic effect. All while biting down on her lip as her eyes glassed over with lust, “Give me! Give it to me! Give me your seed like a man!”

Mark contracted as he hit the home run. One, two solid thrusts, and he gushed out his second load. Anissa met it with pussy spread wide as she slammed the two of them back down on the ground. The sofa splintered to pieces, something somewhere in the kitchen fell over and shattered. As quivers and shakes overtook him as a pussy out of this world massaged his sensitive cock. With each heartbeat she pressed out another drop, her hips pressing down and rotating as if wringing a rag. A mere mortal human would have died, the sound of cracking and grinding concrete made that much abundantly clear. Even though Mark was spent, his cock was eager and willing to have another serving. Anissa said nothing, instead, she had this coy smile as she grinded out another ejaculation from Mark. Then another.

* * *

Warm water poured out from the showerhead, splashing over Mark’s shoulders before trickling down his back. The bones of his body were heavy as if made of led, practically every major muscle drained leaving behind some sad deflated sacks in their place. Strictly speaking, they’d only done it once. It’s just that Anissa didn’t stop. She just kept going. Granted after the first two ejaculations she simmered down to a slow, yet steady burn. Mark couldn’t tell which one was worse; the twice as intense, half as long or half as intense, twice as long. Either way, it was hands down without a contest the best fuck he’d ever had in his life. Neither Amanda nor Eve could hold a candle to what Anissa was capable of. The best part was how liberating it was, to cut loose once and for all. With Amanda Mark always tip-toed around it, terrified to break her given how frail humans were compared to him. Eve was an upgrade in that sense, as she was somewhat sturdier yet not by much.

He turned off the shower, straining his ears. It was faint, but over the dripping water, he heard someone rustling about in the kitchen. Walking over the shattered glass without a care in the world. Securing a towel, Mark dried himself quickly and covered his cock before heading outside. About a quarter of the sofa was flat as if a boulder had dropped out of the sky and squashed it. Several of the picture frames hang at a slight tilt and the fixed window that led out to the garden had a nasty crack in it. Torn pieces of Anissa and Mark’s costumes were scattered over the living room floor. She stood by the kitchen counter, sorting out her shopping bags when she said, “I’ve acquired you some clothes.”

Mark pulled out a stool, “Thanks. Appreciate it.”

“What will you do now, son of Nolan?”

“I have a name you know. It’s Mark,” he let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know. Everything’s gone to shit lately.”

“If you wish to return to your mate, you’re free to do so. I do not mind,” she handed him the clothes. “However, on the off chance that I’m not with child, I’ll demand that we procreate once more.”

He scoffed, “You’re really gun-ho about this procreation thing, huh?”

“Of course. The Emperor's orders are absolute. I must do my part to bring prosperity to our fledgling Empire. My honor demands no less.”

“Right. Though as racist as you rejecting humans is, couldn’t you have settled with one of the other guys?”

Anissa shot him a deadly glare, “Hold your tongue, weakling. Were you not the son of the Emperor, know that I’d tear it out from your mouth. I have my pride, my dignity. I will never settle for anyone weaker than me. I’d rather die.”

Mark paused as he got dressed, “Wait, so I’m stronger than any of those guys?”

She sighed and rolled her eyes before she explained, “You’re the son of the Emperor, who is supreme among the Viltrumite. That alone outweighs your lacking physical strength, pathetic young age, and half-breed nature. And before you ask, yes, I did offer myself to the Emperor as his concubine. Though he did not take kindly to the idea.”

“Yeeeah… I can imagine.”

Anissa scratched the back of her head, her expression troubled, “I was pretty confident, considering how similar I’m to the Emperor’s mate.” She cupped her breasts, “Even superior in some regards. I wonder what about me his majesty found lacking?”

Mark blushed and looked away, “It’s not that you’re lacking. Far from it. It’s just… dad’s been here a long time, learned to adapt our way of life. Our values. What you proposed clashed with the values he’d adopted.”

She examined his face carefully, one elbow resting on the kitchen island that stood between them, “I think I understand the gap between you and the Emperor. You’ve got a long way to go, weakling, before you’re like your father.”

“Oh, come on!”

“Don’t you dare deny that you followed me like a thirsty whelp, even as your mate carries your child.”

“That’s-!” Mark took a deep breath, swallowing down the shout that irked to explode out of his chest. “That’s different…”

Anissa retreated, sensing somehow that she’d touched on a sour subject, “Forgive me. I- I’m still a stranger to the ways of this world. There are so much subtlety and nuance. Nothing is ever clear.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” He smacked his lips, “Uhm, listen this might sound- can I stay at your place for a while? It’d be really awkward to go back to Eve after… y’know.”

“You’re abandoning her?”

“More like she kicked me out. I was gone for six months so,” Mark shrugged sheepishly.

Anissa straightened, an old Viltrumite habit no doubt, “I do not mind. It’s a great honor to host the son of the Emperor, though are these quarters sufficient?”

“Are you kidding me?” he smiled at her as he looked around. Granted it was a simple single floor house that was quite compact, but still more than enough for him to crash until he got his life together. It even had a guest room with a separate bath. “I mean, if anything I’m impressed you’ve got yourself a place this nice, all things considered. You didn’t steal it or kill anyone to get it, did you?”

Her eyes narrowed with insult at the suggestion, “Viltrumite must remain hidden. It is essential, a command from the Emperor Himself. Everything is in order. Though the acquiring of funds and legal papers took… some work.”

“Mind telling me about it over dinner?”

One of Anissa’s eyebrows raised out of curiosity, “You crave substance?”

“After what that world-shattering fuck session we just had? Yeah, I’m starving. Aren’t you?”

She shook her head in disbelief, “Not in the slightest. It takes more than a cuddling session to get my appetite working. Nonetheless, some substance can be arranged.”

“…that was cuddling?”

* * *

About a week and a new sofa later, Mark’s attempt to prevent Rex from taking over the world had failed successfully. By the time he warned Cecil, Mark was assured that he and Immortal were on top of the matter. As a matter of fact, Rex had approached both of them and proposed that they’d work together to make the world a better place. Although Rex’s initial plan was to do everything by himself, he realized that he’d be too hung up on sheer logic to make it work without excessive bloodshed. Logic alone would not save the world and Immortal would add a much-needed human touch to Rex’s cold and calculating logic. Things weren’t perfect, but at least that was one big load of Mark’s chest and by the looks of it, the world at large was creeping towards a better tomorrow. Then, just as things were settling down into a new routine, Anissa stood in the doorway to the guestroom. Her arms crossed and her face stern, “I’m altering our arrangement.”

“Uh… okay? What gives?”

She raised her chin, “I’m not with child. We must resume our efforts.”

“Yeah, but,” Mark counted on his fingers for a moment, “it’s been like six days Anissa. Besides, are there even pregnancy tests that work on Viltrumite?”

Her tone took its trademark crassness, “I’ve known this adult body for twenty-two of your centuries, weakling. The cycle ought to have started by now.”

“Oh… you’ve had kids before?”

“Indeed. What of it?”

He raised his hands, “Nothing. Nothing… it’s just- whoa!”

Her hands grabbed onto the collar of his shirt before she flung him into the wall, shattering the large picture that hung there. Just as Mark pulled his elbow free from the punctured hole in the wall, he found himself pinned against it. Anissa’s face was mere inches away from his, waves of her warm breath washed over his cheek. With their eyes locked, the sensual hunger shined in her grey eyes. A stern hand snatched on to his hair, turning his head to the side. Tongue, lips, and breath teased, nibbled, and tasted the edges of his ear to the point where the hair on the back of his neck stood high and alert. The contrast between the firm grip on his hair and the soft almost brush-like kisses that traversed down his neck was enough to make his head spin in a beet red blush. Her thumb hooked itself on the top button on his shirt. Before Mark could get out a word, it cut downwards like a bolt of lightning. A dozen buttons clattered to the floor while Anissa peeled away from his shirt.

Inhaling with a moan she said, “Stars… imagine what you’ll be like when you’re a man.”

Anissa’s grin was wide, almost sinister as she let the full length of her tongue trek from his bellybutton all the way up to his chin. For a fraction of a second, the room turned into a whirling blur before Mark slammed onto the bed. Something broke, or at the least lost like half of its durability. She straddled him, twisting and grinding on top of him as she played with her hair. A clever smile peeked between her arms as she put on a bit of a show getting undressed. It was a short-lived show as Anissa’s patience wore thin and she made quick work of her clothes. She pressed her naked breasts against his skin, her warmth bleeding into his body. Mark smiled and said, “I know you have a literal stack of cash stashed away in the closet, but have you considered being more careful with our clothes?”

Her voice came out in a deadpan tone, “Focus on procreation Mark. We can chat afterward.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

One hand pushed down on his shoulder, the bed creaked and a few things snapped under the pressure, while Anissa’s other hand moved to rapidly expose Mark’s cock. There was something about the sound of torn fabric that tingled his spine. Part intimidation, part excitement. Finally, it's rigid erecting slapped against his pelvis as she discarded the shredded remains of his underwear. Her pussy swallowed him hole, all the way to the base with one firm stroke. As she began to grind and ride him, the mattress failed to shelter his lower back from the harder structure of the bed as Anissa’s hips pushed him further and further down. She found her rhythm as an exotic melody of sorts filled the room. Moans were soft, with the occasional firmer and sharper grunt while the springs of the bed provided a rhythmic creaking. Now and then the wood would snap or some bolt would fall off and clack against the floor. Sloppy, wet sounds from their connection mixed with the slapping of their bodies. As her breathing grew heavier, more labored she said, “Mark, have you- ugh- have you procreated with anyone else since last?”

With his climax just around the corner, he found it hard to focus enough to give a coherent reply, “Huh? No, I- oh Jesus- I haven’t. I just... uh, uh- talked to Cecil the other day. Otherwise, I haven’t even left the house.”

“Mm... this means you’ve got quite the load ready for me,” she picked up the pace as she spoke. The slapping sounds got louder while the bed rocked harder and harder. It seemed to slip back into the room an inch or so before crashing into the wall. The creaking of wood strained under the momentum until it yielded in a series of splintering sounds, finally free from the built-up tension. Although it was a short fall, a mere foot and a half, Anissa ceased the collapse of the bed as an opportunity to plunge on Mark’s cock. They hit the floor like a mortar shell, rattling the windows and knocked over the bedside lamp. Mark heaved for air as pieces of wood, screws, and bolts scraped and stabbed against his back while Anissa moved relentlessly to coax out an orgasm from him, “Yes, yes...! This is good. Uh, uh, are you there, Mark? Are you going to give it to me? Your seed? The seed you’ve saved for me?”

Mark clenched his jaw, his fingers dug into Anissa’s near-flawless ass, and as his climax came, shoved those damn sexy hips of hers down as hard as he could on his cock. Every muscle tensed up as his dick pumped out his load deep into what was now the best pussy he’d ever had. Even as he basked in the afterglow, Anissa continued to work her magic. She massaged his convulsing shaft with her inner muscles to ensure that she got every last drop. Her eyes glassed over as a vapid smile formed over her plump lips lost in the sensation of Mark’s cum sloshing inside her pussy, sticking to its walls and making its way to its final destination.

Wiping the sweat off his brow, Mark’s panting settled down to a more normal breath as he said, “Holy shit... you’re one hell of a fuck Anissa.”

Her chuckle came out with a satisfied purr, “Oh, you like it?”

“Are you kidding me? I've never blown my load so hard. And, and you’re so... wild, assertive. Feisty!” he looked around at the broken bed. “Though perhaps we should be more careful. Destructive super sex is great, but it’d be bad if your cover is blown.”

Her eyes traced the crack that crossed the width of the bedroom window, “Yes. It's part of my mission to remain hidden. Failure is unacceptable.” She glanced down at him, “Are you comfortable, Mark?”

He shrugged, “I’ve been worse off. Why?”

“Comfortable enough for round two?”

His grin grew wide, “Yes, ma’am.”

* * *

Coat hangers clacked together one after the other as Anissa shifted through her wardrobe. Her grey eyes darted around, taking a glance at each of her options while making split-second decisions. A selected few got picked out and tossed on the bed. All of the clothes had been acquired with a specific purpose in mind; securing a mate. As such, they were both colorful, of fine quality, and revealing. Her fingernail scraped against her teeth as she stood paralyzed by indecision. The enemy would come here, invade her base and she had to prepare. Early preparations were complete, Anissa had spent quite some time in the shower. Possibly too much. But ensuring to use a carefully selected combination of soaps, lotions, and perfume for maximum effect was not easy. Especially when she was for all sense and purposes untrained in these things. Such a tactical blunder could cost her dearly. No use crying over spilled blood and wasted intestines. Get results. Now.

Still wearing nothing but an egg yellow towel, Anissa flustered between the mirror in her bedroom and the mirrors in the master bathroom as she alternated between two outfits. Scarcely a month had passed since she first procreated with Mark and he’d never looked back. If anything, Anissa had taken steps to use their procreation sessions to drive a wedge between Mark and his old mate. As far as she could tell, her success in this endeavor had been admirable. Nevertheless, she’d come here to discuss matters of long-term housing and shelter with Mark. While it was tempting to leave the wrench to die on the streets, given that she carried Mark’s child, and as such their deaths would be counterproductive to Anissa’s mission. Not to mention that with the rapid changes this world was undergoing under its newfound leadership, such a prospect was unlikely. More so due to Eve’s connection to said leadership.

Anissa shook her head, her damp hair struggled to keep up. What would keep Mark’s attention the most? The sleeveless low-cut top or the short, tight skirt? If she wanted to commit to maximum efficiency, she’d wear both. But that could be seen as overkill, which in return would bring unwarranted attention to her and she’d risk exposure. Anissa froze, inhaling sharply as she glanced at the alarm clock by the bed. She didn’t have time to diddle doddle like some pathetic seventy-year-old prepping for her first battle. Hastily she gathered up all the clothes and stuffed them back into the walk-in wardrobe. Having purged her so-call calculated options from her mind, Anissa opted for a simple buttoned crop top, complemented by an ankle-length skirt with a very generous split. Ignore the topmost buttons and with the right bra, she would be equipped to protect her mate. Last but not least, make-up, or as Anissa called it; war paint.

“Anissa? You in there?” Mark called, knocking on the bedroom door.

The door yanked open and Anissa greeted him with an awkward and uneasy smile, adjusting her hair, “Hi… yeah.”

“Look, I don’t think you and Eve ever met, but on the off chance that you have and she recon-”

She put her finger on his lips, “No. This is my house and I will not abandon it to the enemy.”

“Right… we could just take this to a café or something.”

“Out of the question,” Anissa crossed her arms and shook her head. “She’s with child, well underway at that. I will not tolerate her starting a scene in public, bringing shame, disgrace, and dishonor to the imperial Viltrumite family.”

Mark rubbed his eye and muttered under his breath, “Goddamnit dad, why did you have to be the emperor…?”

Just then the doorbell rang. Mark gave her a look and mouthed behave yourself before he went to open the door, “Eve. Come on in.”

Eve didn’t walk in as much as she wobbled. Anissa opted for the longer route, circling back around both their new sofa and the dining table so she could better assess her opponent. Despite her round figure and large belly, Eve had a rigidness to her as if on guard. No obvious weapons, be it for combat or seduction. Though Anissa couldn’t allow herself to fully relax, as appearances could be deceiving. There was a slight comfort in knowing that as it stood, Eve’s body severely deviated from the conventional cultural beauty ideals this backwater world held so near and dear. It lent some authenticity to Anissa’s smile as she greeted her, even if the only authentic part was its smugness, “Hi, hello. I’m Anissa. Pleased to meet you.”

Not a single word. Anissa’s hand, offered in the customary handshake manner, were left hanging alone. Good thing Eve’s powers weren’t temperature-based, for her glare would have crushed the house under a massive glacier. Mark, far more in tune with the social ballet and is carefully composed melody than Anissa was already sweating bullets. Her pride and dignity as a Viltrumite could be a great foil to Anissa, though under the right circumstances they could easily become her greatest assets. She’d nod, smile, and humor this bitch, to a point at least. Anissa would not fail the Empire, let alone disgrace her sire’s firstborn son. Mark could lead and she’d follow to the utmost of her ability, at least in these delicate matters. She tilted her head, still smiling, “Would you like to have a seat? Can I get you some refreshments? We have orange juice, freshly made this morning.”

“Thanks, Anissa, we- we’ll manage.”

Mark and Eve settled down on the sofa. They talked. Civil at first. Anissa brought them juice, taking the opportunity to flaunt her assets. Both those upfront and her rear. While her skirt wasn’t as tight as she’d like, a welcome tradeoff was its thin fabric. Somewhat flustered, Mark carried on with his talk. Anissa retreated to the dining table, “reading” a magazine. Their negotiations spiraled off to weird, unrelated tangents. The volume increased, their tones got sharper and words more vulgar. She was the first to bring the tears, though oddly enough Mark wasn’t far behind. As pathetic it was, the sight of him hurting also hurt Anissa. She’d been injured many times before, often gravely so. Yet the pain she experienced now was different. Despite this newfound pain being borderline insignificant, it demanded her full attention. Even more confusing was how quickly it disappeared as soon as Anissa took her eyes of Mark and focused on Eve instead. What a strange experience.

“Eve, please. For the last time, take the damn house. I don’t want it. I don’t need it. Not as much as you and the baby do.”

Eve blew her nose, cheeks already scarred from a dozen tears, “Where will you live? Here?”

Anissa met her tear wet eyes. The corner of her mouth raised to a smug half-smile. Not taking her eyes of Anissa, Eve asked, “How long have you been here, Mark?”

“About a month,” Anissa spoke up for the first time.

“A, a month? But that- Mark, are you serious?!” she turned to face him.

“Eve-”

She raised a threatening finger at him, “Don’t you Eve me.”

It went downhill from there. As their talk deteriorated, Anissa withdrew to the kitchen distracting herself by preparing dinner. Somewhere between the shouting and tears, an agreement was met; Mark let Eve keep the house and Eve never wanted to see him ever again. Though even after she’d left, Eve’s presence continued to linger like an unwanted smog. Though habits and instincts honed over two thousand years were hard to erase, so his attempt to sneak up on her failed rather miserably, “What do you require, Mark?”

His arms folded around her stomach as he rested his face on the back of her neck and strong shoulders. Anissa stood perfectly still, only her eyes shifted from left to right as she assessed the situation. She'd seen this before, several times in fact. When she’d studied this world’s pathetic creatures to better blend in, she’d watched hours upon hours of video and audio feed that got broadcasted across the planet. Unfortunately, as familiar as she was with the theory, she had no practical experience with it. Had this been in the Viltrumite Empire, she’d pry away his arms and beaten Mark within an inch of his life, if not killed him outright, for such an open display of weakness. Though now it’d be counterproductive to her current mission as the resulting fight would not only expose her true nature but most likely damage her relationship with Mark beyond repair. He might even bring this to the Emperor to see that she’d be punished. Even though according to Viltrumite law, she’d done no wrong.

“...nothing. I’m just-” as he drew a deep breath, she felt his chest shudder at the effort, “...drained, exhausted.”

“Really? Settling matters with your mate is that much of a deal? Do you regret giving up your housing? Is she perhaps not worthy of it, in your eyes?”

“That’s not it,” his groan rumbled across her shoulder blades. “Guess expecting you to understand is too much to ask for…”

Clearing her throat, she gave his hand a couple of awkward pats, “I... I'm not too accustomed to the ways and customs of this world, but your kind doesn’t seem to be unfamiliar with the concept of revenge.”

“What are you getting at?” He sniffed, “You’re not planning on attacking Eve, are you?”

“No. I’d risk exposing myself by doing so, compromising my mission,” she said. Her tongue trekked from one corner of her mouth to the next as she carefully weighed her words, “What I propose instead is a type of revenge that’s rather unique to this world. Get your revenge on that pathetic wrench by securing your own happiness, one far greater than anything she could have hope to give you. Make her regret kicking you out.”

Nothing. A silent beat passed. Anissa swallowed, had she gone too far? Did she mess up the words? Was her reading of this so-called mood off? This blasted world with its expansive webs and labyrinths would drive her mad enough to shatter the moon before sundown. Finally, Mark inhaled and exhaled deeply. It wasn’t much, but it was a response of some kind. His hands shifted, slithered around over her stomach while breathing in at the back of her neck, “You know, that’s not a bad idea Anissa. I'm pissed. I’m pissed at Eve. And I'm gonna take it out on someone. So, here’s the deal; I'm gonna fuck you, Anissa. I'm gonna fuck you so hard, pump you so full of my cum, and you? You just stand right there and take it. Every last drop. Deal?”

Her smile would have been wider had it not been for that she bit down on her lower lip, “Deal.”

His hand found her chin, guiding her lips to hers while the other slipped underneath her sweater. It cupped her breast, massaging it with tender and care for a moment before his fingers sought out her nipple. Anissa struggled against his advances. Not because she didn’t want to receive his seed but the notion that someone younger and weaker than her would take the lead was in a word degrading. Nevertheless, she put up a valiant effort to shackle and restrain her impulses to pin Mark down and take what she felt was rightfully hers to claim as she saw fit. This world was not ruled by sheer raw might alone, as perplexing as the concept may be. If she were to live here and fulfill her mission assigned to her by the Emperor Himself, Anissa would have to let her pride and dignity as a Viltrumite warrior yield. At least momentarily. The fact that she’d secured the Emperor’s son made the situation... tolerable. Thankfully his youth and inexperience with other Viltrumite helped Anissa hide her wrestling with her habits of old.

Their lips parted and he breathed, “God Anissa. You're so fucking hot. I wanna just shove my cock into you. Right now.”

“Then do it,” she dared him with a lust filled smile.

“No. No, I want to savor you first. Get a real good taste of this goddamn sex-bomb of a body,” as he spoke, he pressed his hips against her ass. The raging erection in his pants snuggled neatly between her ass cheeks, clothing be damned. “But don’t you worry. I'll make sure to make you howl.”

“Strong words from a weakling. Stop your barking and let me taste your bite, whelp.”

“Not yet,” he said as both hands slipped underneath her sweater, pulling her bra up over her breasts before he gave both nipples a solid pinch.

She squirmed in his arms as Mark’s hands acted more like oversized tongues than hands as they traversed up, down, and around her body. Her skin grew flushed and more sensitive as the tip of his fingers traced over her textured abs, the full width of his palms circling to her lower back all while his breath washed down her neck, each wave hungrier than the last. In an effort to restrain herself, Anissa bit down hard on her lip, her fingers rummaged through both her and his hair, yet it only made her body hotter. A disappointed sigh escaped past her lips as he eased up on grinding against her ass. She was, however, rewarded with a shiver traveling from the bottom of her spine all the way up to her neck as his hands swooped down and groped her ass. The plumpness of her ass stuck to his palms; his grip was as greedy as it was firm. A sharp inhale when his nails scraped over her skin proved too much for the button on her skirt and it ricocheted between the kitchen wall and fridge, leaving a dent in both.

By now there was a giddiness to Mark’s labored breathing. A hand grabbed the back of her neck and pressed down as the sound of a loosened belt buckle clacked about. Her skirt got hoisted up fast enough to make a draft brush against her strong thighs. With his jeans out of the way, Anissa stuck out her ass and probed for his now even more prominent erection. As her ass cheeks secured their price, she kissed his hard shaft with her pussy lips, staining their underwear. Her panties tugged briefly at her side before the fabric ripped. Their torn remains ended up dangling around her knee. Being freed from the damp cloth tickled and the cooler air that brushed against her lower lips gave her goosebumps. Unexpectedly, rather than ramming his throbbing hard cock all the way down to the base, Mark opted to instead ease it inside. It was crawling, meticulous torture that for all its teasing, denied Anissa its greater reward. Her fingers curled into talons as a guttural groan rumbled from the depths of her throat. He leaned down on her back, holding her hips in place as he breathed into her ear, “Yeah... you like that? You like this cock?”

“I...” her moan rose to a thin shriek as its girth spread her pussy apart at an agonizingly slow pace, “love it!”

“Oh yeah... uh, that’s a good grip right there. Just a bit, ugh, more babe.” He let out a nervous chuckle, “Jesus fucking Christ, this pussy. I'm about to blow my load already. Not yet though, not yet.”

Finally, at what felt like an eternity and a half, Mark’s dick came to a halt. He rested his chin on her shoulder, content that her hips would not shift nor move, he helped himself to two handfuls of her breasts. As his hot breath waxed and waned over her skin, Anissa focused her efforts on her pussy; contracting and withdrawing at the base, middle and top of his shaft. Moans started to intertwine with his breathing, interrupted by inaudible mutterings until he straightened with a long, sharp inhale. Grabbing her ass, the first thrust came, then another, and another, “Fuckin’ Eve. Kicking me out. Stupid bitch.”

Anissa, certain he was close, egged him on, “Yeah, uh, tell her Mark. Uh, uh. Tell that bitch.”

His thrusts picked up speed and force while his fingers secured a firmer grip around her waist, allowing her plump, peach-shaped ass to bounce off his cock, “Teasin’ me with that tiny little pink suit hugging her ass while dating Rex. Uh, uh, uh, fuck you bitch. Even when you got fat, your ass ain’t nothin’ like this one. Now, this is an ass! And it’s mine! Mine!”

The sloppy wet sound from a dick pumping itself in and out of a tight gripping pussy filled the kitchen. As tight as Anissa’s pussy lips were on Mark’s cock, it did little to stop her pussy juice from dripping down her legs, sending sticky threads up against the kitchen counter and drooling over the floor. Mark traded his momentum for a few deep thrusts, first pulling back until only the head of his cock was inside and then shoving it back into her deepest part. Leaning on her back, he groped her tits while piston pumping her pussy using half of his cock, “Had a fuckin’ abortion. Behind. My. Back. Had to die to get tits worth a damn! I'm gonna give you my load, Anissa. Ready or not, here it comes.”

One last shove was held in place as Mark gushed out his first load. His warm, sticky seed filled her up with one full wave followed by a few more spurts of diminishing returns. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that he’d worked up quite the sweat. Far more than usual, though perhaps that was to be expected when he did most of the work. Although she had gotten what she wanted and could have gotten it just as well by doing things her way, Anissa had a sense of pride for Mark. She'd coaxed out part of his Viltrumite nature which for reasons beyond her were shackled by a much weaker creature. There might be hope for him yet if she just humored him some more. A wry smile curved her lips, “You through?”

Mark sniffed, his eyes had a glare to them, “No. I just- just needed a breather, that’s all.”

Not a minute later, they went for another round. While her pussy lips stroked his cock, her words stroked his ego which manifested itself as a fiercer and more impatient fuck. With one load out of his system, Mark had to work harder to get the next one off. Though neither one of them seemed to mind as their bodies slapped together, sending ripples up Anissa’s full ass cheeks, spattering body fluids around while the kitchen cupboards rattled. Between the rapid panting, Mark’s words leaped off the backs of grunts, “This goddamn pussy of yours! Ugh, uh, ugh...! Fucking hell. Never felt such a tight grip in my life.”

“Yeah? What about my ass? You like it?” she said as she gave it a few extra shakes, matching his thrusts.

“Uh, uh, uh. Oh yeah, oh, yeah. Fantastic ass. Shit, just look at it go. Ha, ha, ha! This-” his words drowned in a groan, “-makes it all worth it. So great, so goddamn fucking great.”

“Better than that bitch, Eve, right?”

“No contest. Forget the ballpark, you two are not even the same game.” Mark’s beet red, sweat-soaked face contorted, his jaw set, “Oh shit, I'm gonna cum! OOH! Cumming! Oh, oh, oooh! That's... that’s good, oh so fucking good. Oh- oh yeah. Like that. Drink it up. Ugh, yeeeeah.”

Anissa gave him a once over. His fatigue was far more apparent now; his t-shirt had massive sweat stains on it, his chest rose and fell with deep, labored breaths, and he didn’t keep his hips as firmly pressed against hers after blowing his load. Chances were if she asked for another serving and leave it entirely up to him, he’d decline. Though Anissa wouldn’t mind a third, possible fourth round it was clear that Mark needed a breather. And for all of his enthusiasm, he’d held back. Sure, they'd rattled the plates and made mass of the kitchen, but that was about it. If nothing else, it had given her a good gauge of just how far they could take it and still maintain their cover.

She led him around the kitchen island by his cock, not caring for the cum that dripped down her legs as she walked. With her coy, sensual smile in place, she plopped him down on a stool and straddled his semi-erect cock. Her torso and pelvis writhed with erotic grace while at the same time pulling his t-shirt off over his head. For once, leaving it intact on the floor. She rubbed her rich, full breasts up and down his chest, locking his eyes with hers. When she spoke, it was like a whisper carried through the air by the sweetest perfume, “Did she ever do this for you, Mark? Mm? Please you? Relax... You don’t have to do anything. Except... enjoy.”

Looking at his face, she could tell that he submerged himself in the growing rapture. With a little clever and subtle use of her flight ability, Anissa remained straddled without pinning him down. Much like before when they reached the third round, she used the motions of her hips to massage out another load. Though this time around, it was a bit of payback from before intertwined with her motives. Her breathing grew slow, deep, and deliberate. It complimented her moves which slowly built-up pressure only to fade it out. Rising, she folded her hand around the back of his head, guiding his face to her breasts. His words tickled, “Oh man... this is just- heaven.”

“Ssshh, ssshh, leave it to me. I'll make you feel sooo good,” her voice sank to a raspy tone. “Don't hold back, Mark. Let it out whenever you want. I’ll take it. I waaant it. I need iiiit…”

His arms folded around her muscular back, hugging her close. Accepting his invitation, Anissa let her hips steadily gain momentum while tightening her grip on his now fully erect cock. His grunts and groans got muffled by the fullness of her breasts, only his nose peeked up from her cleavage to suck in air. The kitchen stool rocked and clacked against the floor, yet Anissa tempered her thrusts so it held. Finally, his nails dug into her skin and he pumped her with his third load of the day.

* * *

“YES!” Anissa's sudden cry caught Mark off guard, making him almost choke on the apple he was eating. As he worked to regain his composure, Anissa stampeded into the living room. “I bring glory to the Empire! My mission is complete!”

“Glory...? Mission? What on- oh. Oh! Does that mean?”

“Indeed Mark,” she couldn’t hide her smugness even if she tried. “I am with child.”

“Certainly not from a lack of trying,” he said before clearing his throat. “I suppose gratulations are in order. So how does this work? Do we celebrate or wait or...?”

Anissa pondered the question for a moment, “I should return to the Viltrumite Warship, update them on the status of my mission, and await further instructions. Discretion is still key. I cannot fail now that I'm so close. I'll leave at sunset.”

“Oh... okay,” he scratched the back of his head. “Do you want me to come with-”

She raised her hand to stop him, “There is no need Mark. The trip is short and safe. The secrecy of our presence here is our greatest shield.” Her bombastic confidence shrunk back a little as she added with a mumble, “Your concern is nevertheless... appreciated.”

True to her word, Anissa took to the skies mere minutes after the sun had dipped down over the horizon. For the first time since they met, she wore her grey and white Viltrumite suit. The dark blue night sky swallowed her as she cut out of view, leaving behind a sonic boom. As Mark returned inside, closing the door behind him the house struck him as incredibly vast and empty. It was a silly notion; the house was the same as always. He even bumped his toe against the dining table. How could that be if the house had somehow turned into this barren wasteland? Limping more out of habit than actual pain, Mark settled down on the sofa and watched the news. Lost in a hollow daze, nothing on the screen really stuck. He looked without watching, he heard without listening. Time lost its meaning up until his stomach growled for attention. The simple meal he prepped himself was kinda just there. A squishy substance of sorts that offered little to nothing in terms of taste or smell.

The next couple of days passed in a similar fashion. Mark caught up with some of his friends and kept himself busy through some fashion or another, but there was always this hollow gap that lingered no matter what he did or who he was with. On the third day, at the crack of dawn, Anissa returned. The impact of her landing rocked Mark out of his sleep, “Uh…? Wha? A-Anissa, that- is that you?”

Entering the house from the garden porch, Anissa appeared to be in good mood, “Morning to you Mark. I bring news from the Imperial Throne.”

Mark stifled a yawn, “You, you do? Oh, great. Great. Unless it’s bad news.”

She strode over to the fridge, helping herself with some juice, “Far from it, I dare say. You’re not, how do they say it? A fan? Of combat and battle.”

He gave a sheepish shrug, “There are better ways to spend an afternoon. Just sayin’.”

“Then you’ll be happy to hear that not one, but two of the Empire's enemies are slain.”

“Really? Who? How? When? Where?”

Anissa’s would have laughed had it not been for the juice in her mouth. Her flustered attempts at juggling with her predicament was quite adorable. Clearing her throat, she said, “Thragg and the Battle Beast known as Thokk fought each other to the death. It was a battle for the ages I’ve been told. Reports say that even the world they fought on was utterly destroyed.”

Mark spread his hands with a flabbergasted expression, “Uh, great. That’s good, right? I mean, you’re not sad that Thragg is dead?”

She blinked at the question, “Why would I? He was declared an enemy of the Empire by the Emperor Himself and promptly exiled. Truthfully, I’m vexed that he got a warrior’s death.”

“Right… right. For a moment there I thought I was talking to a human…” He took a deep breath, “Sooo… anything else- you might… want to talk about? Like how’s your pregnancy going?”

“Hm? Oh, I laid the egg yesterday and its incubation is coming along nicely,” she said with a dismissive gesture of her hand.

“Ah, nice, nice. That’s- hold up! Wait, what?!” Mark pointed a shocked and terrified finger at her, “Y-y-y-you laid an… egg?!”

She frowned, “Mark, all Viltrumite females lay eggs. This is basic biology.”

“Yeah…! O-okay! Sure, my bad. And, and you just- left it?! Up there? On the moon?!”

“I do not understand why you’re raising your voice. Why are you so… what’s the word? Upset? Distressed? We’ve used incubation machines for generations. Women haven’t tended to their eggs since,” she scoffed, “before interstellar travel.”

“I’m going to need to sit down…”

For the remainder of the day, the mood between them drifted between silent, awkward, and downright uncomfortable. They ate in silence, spoke not a single word while doing the dishes, and just stared at the TV with blank apathy. When the evening shifted tonight and it was time for bed, Anissa made her move, “Mark…?”

“Hmm?”

“Sleep with me tonight.”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Anissa, I’m really not in the mood for that tonight.”

“No, I don’t mean it like that,” she drew a breath as she held herself close. “Sleep together with me tonight. Share my bed. No procreation required.”

A short logistics shift later and Mark and Anissa slipped under the covers in the same bed for the first time. It was uncharted territory for Anissa. Viltrumite usually slept alone as the strong often sought to weed out the weak, using their most vulnerable moments to strike. Ruthless efficiency above all else. Despite the immediate, clear, and present danger their shared presence brought; it didn’t take long before Mark was sound asleep. For Anissa, the seconds dragged on like long, dry summer days spent counting grains of sand on a deserted beach. As tired as she was, as soft as her pillow was, sleep would not come to her. Taut and alert, she lay on needles and pins, listening, waiting for an ambush that she was convinced would come. In the end, at the crack of dawn, all that came of it was the steady, soothing sound of Mark’s breathing. It was new, but it was nice.


End file.
